One of the greatest curses of adulthood is watching your offspring behave in the same maddeningly stupid manner as you did at their age. From my own experience, I could regale you with numerous examples. The one of which I’ve been reminded lately is the sensitivity to the opinions of friends, or rather, those who form the counterpart in those transient parasitic relationships that pass for friendships among the pre-whiskered.*
It happened like this†: one of my blessed offspring — who is, I think, as mature and respectful as any, which is to say, not very — was ridiculing me for my choice of music. It was, to be honest, a choice I had made not because I really liked it so much, but because I knew the kind of reaction it would provoke, and thought it would be fun. It was, as it turned out, even more fun than anticipated, as it provided an opportunity for one of my educational lectures. And that, as I’m sure you would suspect, is good fun for the whole family.
“I don’t care what you think. And that reminds me of a lesson you’re going to learn, as I did, too late.” Groans were uttered and eyes were rolled in excited anticipation of the treat to come. “You shouldn’t care what others think of your preferences, either, but you do.” Denials were made. “Oh, sure, you can deny it, but I know: if your ‘friends’ knew you had unfashionable thoughts, your social status would take a hit. And social status is important to you.
“One of the most savory benefits of age is the shedding of concern over the opinions of critics. Youth says, ‘I don’t care what you think,’ but actually means, ‘I care very much that you might think I care what you think.’ Maturity honestly doesn’t care what you think, and seldom feels the need to respond at all to ignorant ridicule.‡
“Now, to use the current example as an object lesson, when I was a child, if I had liked the kind of music I like now, I never would have admitted it to my peers. They would have mocked me mercilessly, and my fragile ego would not have born it. In fact, there were things, musical and otherwise, that I enjoyed, but kept mostly to myself. Instead of being myself, I tried to melt into the socially acceptable and be ‘cool.’
“Lesson Number One That I Learned To Late is that cool has no resale value. Every penny, every second, every effort you invest in being accepted by your peers is a complete waste. The return on your investment is nothing more than Monopoly money: worthless outside of the game. In Monopoly, at least, you haven’t traded anything of value for worthless paper. In life, you trade yourself for the worthless token (if you are successful) of the temporary esteem of the most shallow people on the planet. But hey, congratulations; for a few minutes, you’re in the in crowd.
“Lesson Number Two That I Learned To Late is that seeking peer approval defines you as one who is influenced rather than one who influences. You may occasionally encounter an individual who thinks independently and goes his own way. He is who he is, not who he is told he should be. That person will grow up to be a shepherd or, at least, a sheepdog. Everyone else is just a sheep.
“Lesson Number Two That I Learned To Late is that I could have enjoyed many experiences that I wouldn’t even consider because they were a priori not good. The choices I made are maddening now. I spent my youth listening to the likes of AC/DC and Van Halen. [Excuse me for a moment while I bury my head in shame.] I could have been enjoying art produced by adults, but I never gave them a chance because they weren’t cool. Instead, I filled a large case with cassette tapes of overgrown screaming children.”
I realize that this post has not been much of a theological nature. These are just off-the-cuff existential observations of One Who Has Been There and Lived to Regret It. For a theological treatment of the same subject, plus a whole lot more, see Ecclesiastes.
* Readers of the fair sex will have to come up with a feminine equivalent. I couldn’t think of one.
† This is, of course, the much embellished and edited-for-print version.
‡ Not all criticism is ignorant ridicule. There are people whose opinions about certain things you should value. The subject here today is those things that are judged subjectively by those who, in this context, are nobody.
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